Our Apartment

"Woman!" He yelled. "Get me a drink!"
"I ain't your slave!" I screamed back at him. "And besides that, you're already in the kitchen!"

Again the thumping ensued from the wall. "Shaddap in there! Or I'll have you evicted!"
I rolled my eyes and turned up the telly, some things never change.

Rascal walked in and leaned against the door frame. From the corner of my eye I saw him draw in a deep breath and look around the room. It was a little shabby, paint was peeling in some places, the furniture didn't match, and everything we owned was still in boxes from move in day, about a month ago. I tried to decorate, hung up a few pictures that we carried with us, framed a few smiling faces of us, but it still didn't feel like home, yet.
He tipped his can back and drained the last of the soda into his throat and shuffled back into the kitchen. The fridge door opened with a sticky sound, then closed again a few seconds later. Then the cookie jar that I had made in college clinked open and shut again as well. I closed my eyes, I forgot to make cookies yesterday.
Feigning sleep, I lay my head against the homemade blanket his mother made as a 'welcome home' gift. I think it was her first attempt to welcome me into the family.
With a soft thump Rascal landed on the love seat we had rescued from a side street. When we moved out we were going to get a new one, but for now this seventies themed piece of junk with one leg missing would have to do. At first it smelled like wet dogs, but we got used to the smell. The light hanging over the living room went off, after all this time he still thought that when I laid my head down, I was actually sleeping. Oh Rascal. I felt him carefully pull the blanket from under my head and replace it with a pillow from his side of the couch. I knew what was coming, and sure enough he draped the scratchy thing over me and left the room.
I opened my eyes and looked at the telly, he had even muted it so I could sleep. Sleep, that's what I needed. But it was only nine o'clock at night, what could have made me so tired? I looked again at the clock still puzzled, it wasn't nine at night, it was nine in the morning! I pushed the blanket off and heard a crackly sound. Startled I grabbed the blanket again and looked for an answer. It was a note from Rascal. It read:
"Baby, I was called in for 2 a.m. last night, and I won't be back until lunch. Hope class goes well. (R)."

How sweet of Rascal to remember that I had a first aid refresher course down at the gym today. How rude that he had to be called in for 2 a.m. though at the hospital. At least he'd be home for lunch. Lunch. Breakfast? Breakfast.
I tucked his note into my pocket and walked into the kitchen. The dishes from last night were still in the sink, the trash needed to be thrown out and the bills still unpaid. I sighed. Some things never do change.

After the kitchen had been wiped down, the phone calls made and the laundry started, I went in to the bedroom to get changed. We slept in different rooms most of the time, nothing personal, its just how it was. Sure enough, he forgot to make his bed, so, I made it. No big deal, just part of the chores.

Our life was mundane but we liked it that way. The neighbors liked it too, the said it was a refresher having us instead of the sexy party animals they had a few months ago. I work, he works, I made dinner, he makes breakfast, then we pay the bills. No frills,  no parties, no... anything. Date nights are the best though, we'll save up enough and we'll have a night out. That's our way of life.